


Smile for Me: Memories

by SourPickledPlums



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Boris as a child, Cold War, Gen, TW: implied domestic abuse, The Tooth Lily, boris habit - Freeform, references to ww2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SourPickledPlums/pseuds/SourPickledPlums
Summary: This is a short series that is about my own interpretation of Boris Habit's past and the events that led up to the Smile for Me game. It can be considered a stand-alone or a companion piece to my 'The Breaking of Bad Habits' series.This series will have 5 chapters in total; It starts with how Boris got his Lily and will end on the final confrontation between him and Flower Kid. If you have ideas or potential new chapters you'd like me to add about Dr. Habit's history (or any other character) feel free to message me!Enjoy the read~
Relationships: Dr. Boris Habit & Dr. Boris Habit's Parents
Kudos: 11





	Smile for Me: Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Sepiateeth written analysis on Tumblr: https://sepiateeth.tumblr.com/post/623690390549184512/since-my-other-two-analysis-posts-have-been

**Aksay, Soviet Union**

**March 2, 1967**

_ “Leonid Brezhnev and Lyndon B. Johnson discuss negotiations to limit nuclear weapons being produced. Brezhnev addresses USA’s increased number of Anti-Ballistic Missiles and Johnson criticizes our country’s increased number of nuclear warheads. Many still have doubts that either side of the debate will agree to decrease the number of missiles but, rest assured, if a war is to reignite between the Soviet Union and the USA, we have faith that Brezhnev will lead us and our comrades to victory.” _

_ “In other news it has been announced today that the Venera 4 will be scheduled to launch in June and we’ll be getting the first ever glimpse of the surface of the mysterious Planet Venus. The Morning and Evening Star that has guided our ancestors for thousands of years will finally reveal its secrets to us this summer.” _

“Boris! Turn off the television, it’s time for dinner.” Boris’ mother announced as she brought a steaming plate of chicken kiev to the table before she removed her oven mittens and seated herself at the table.

Boris hurried over to turn off the television set and climbed up into his chair as his mother plated him a large pile of vegetables and chicken kiev. 

His father’s face was obscured by the newspaper detailing the events of the meeting between country leaders until his mother had finished loading his place. 

Neither said a word and after his mother finished giving out the food, she and Boris stayed still and quiet in their seats until the father finally finished reading his paper. He folded it up and set it aside before taking a long draw from his smoking pipe, letting out a large puff that filled the dining room air. 

“Those damn American pigs. They think they can intimidate us with their missiles. It’s only a matter of time before World War 3 breaks out.” The father grumbled. 

“If that happens, we might get called back to be doctors for the soldiers.” The mother replied, glancing at Boris with worry in her eyes.

“Not unless they launch the weapons. Then we’ll all be dead before we even set foot on the battlefield again.” The father sets his pipe down after one last puff and the family put their hands together as the father leads in prayer.

After the prayer, they all began to eat in silence as Boris contemplated why the world the way it is now. 

“Why can’t we be friends with the Americans?” Boris asked, looking up at his mother and father. They both looked down at him with mixed emotions in their eyes. 

“Why can’t both our countries just grow flowers instead of weapons?”

His mother opened her mouth as if to say something, but she simply shook her head and bowed her gaze to her plate, taking small bites out of her chicken. His father, however, stared down at his son with a stern, cold gaze which made Boris shrink in his seat. 

“They are the enemy Boris. We can’t just  _ ‘be friends’ _ with them.  _ Flowers  _ can’t solve the world’s problems. Those pigs have killed many of my friends during the war and they won’t hesitate to kill your mother and I. You think that-” His voice began to raise until his mother interrupted. 

“Mikhail! Don’t, he’s just a child!” She protested. 

He shot her a harsh gaze and she flinched at the sight. He looked back at his son with the same gaze before he relented with a low grumble and continued to eat his dinner. 

“When you’re older and get drafted like I did, Boris, then you’ll understand.” His father said sternly, expecting it to be his final and accepted answer. His mother looked to Boris; her hands shaking slightly as she held her utensils.

“Boris, your Father is right. Is it… Hard to explain but you’ll know why when you become older.” She then bowed her head and ate in silence.

Although Boris remained silent, he was still plagued with questions. 

_ ‘Why is it that both his country and America are obsessed with making more weapons and going to space? Why can’t they be obsessed with growing more flowers or making bombs that explode happiness dust to make the world better?’ _

All the time his parents talk about how scary and mean the world is. How one day they will all be dead because of something America did. If they had just made Americans happy maybe his parents wouldn’t be so miserable.

Boris just wished he knew how he could help. 

\-----------------

The following day, while Boris was walking home from school, he traveled down through the main market street of the town. Everywhere around him, he saw even more frowning faces. He hasn’t seen anyone crack a smile in ages. Everyone would rather have their faces glued to the news, the papers and the posters proclaiming that ‘The Truth of Linen is Strong!’. They also talked endlessly of how terrible the world is and how they’re all going to war again soon.

As he was walking, his eyes spotted a shop that had many of its stock piled up outside its doors and marked for steeply discounted prices. 

The shop looked old, the wooden exterior looking aged with cracks, splinters and washed out paint peeling off its walls. Its windows were made of stained glass, also aged by time, and a wooden sign hung overhead the shop reading, ‘Babushka’s Remedies.’ And on the sidewalk, at both sides of the shop’s entrance, were large, sprawled tree roots that grew on top of the bricked sidewalk. The shape of the roots reminded him of the severed chicken feet he would see in the display cases in the butcher shop whenever his parents took him there for shopping.

His curiosity nagged at him to look at the wares and he began to browse until an old woman hobbled out of the shop carrying a crate full of old, dusty books. She drops it on top of another pile of books before she glances at the boy. She had a long-hooked nose, deep wrinkles clinging to her face and one eye that was clouded grey and the other was icy blue. 

She had a large hunch on her back with a grey, wool shawl draped over her form. And her hands resembled the tree roots under the shop with long, yellow nails and thick, swollen knuckles. And her complexion was faded grey, with a hint of green in her skin tone.

She lets out an exhausted sigh and turns to look at the boy with her good eye.

“Well, hello there, child.” Her voice was low and croaky. “Have you come to browse or is there something I can help you find?”

The old woman looked over her wares with a sad expression.

“My stocks are limited but I’m sure there’s something here for you.”

At first Boris shied away from the old woman and clutched at the straps of his backpack on his shoulders. But the old woman simply folded her arms behind her lower back and smiled warmly as she waited for a reply. Boris slowly gathered the nerve to overcome his shyness. 

“U-um, I was looking for something that can help me.”

“Oh? What remedy is it you seek?” She asked. 

“It’s not for me, its… My parents… All they ever talk about is nuclear bombs and how bad everything is. I want to make them happy again. Do you have something that can help with that?”

The old woman hummed as she stroked her chin with her long nails. 

“These are indeed dark times, my boy, many people are suffering the same ailment. This land has been through so much and many people have forgotten of the magic that is around them.” The old woman frowned and looked off into the distance in a contemplative gaze. 

“Magic?” Boris asked, his curiosity now enticed. 

“Oh yes.” The woman’s frown turned into a knowing, slightly mischievous smile. “There is magic everywhere in this world. If you know where and how to find it.” She reached over and gently tapped Boris’ nose. “I sense that there’s even a little magic in you, as well.” 

Boris wiggled his nose at the contact before his eyes gleamed. 

“R-really?”

“Oh yes. I sense that there is hidden potential in you, my boy.” She hums again as she looks at him in a calculating manner. 

“I think I may have something that can help you. Follow me inside.” She gestures for him to follow which he reluctantly does so. 

The inside of the shop was an absolutely cluttered mess. Piles, upon piles of books in every corner, old stuffed animals of all sorts of species watched Boris with their glass eyes from the store’s counters and bookshelves. There were jars filled with eyeballs, teeth, and embryos of unidentifiable creatures. Behind the cashier counter the entire wall was filled with massive jars of herbs, spices and medicinal plants all labelled in faded writing. The entire place smelled like old books and dried flowers and there was dust caking nearly every surface. 

The woman led him to the far back area of the shop before stopped to look at him. 

“Wait right here.”

She drew back the beaded curtain to the backroom and began to shuffle around her storage as Boris took the time to look around the shop. He looked over the piles of books closets to him, some of the paintings of people gathered around bonfires and dancing.

As he was looking around, he spotted movement at the corner of his eye. He looked over to where a stuffed Great Horned Owl was staring back at him. He looked at the owl for a moment, admiring its beauty before he saw a man-shaped creature that looked entirely covered in darkness with long, spindly limbs. It opened its beady red eyes and looked directly at Boris from behind the owl. Just as Boris saw it in that split second the red eyes darted to the side and the man vanished. 

Boris let out a gasp of fright as he stepped back, bumping into an old dresser and stirring up dust. He coughed as the cloud enveloped him and the old woman hurried back from the backroom, carrying a small, wooden chest in her hand as she shuffled her feet to Boris. 

“Are you alright? Did something fall?” The old woman asked with concern. 

Boris brushed the dust from his long, copper hair before he pointed behind the stuffed owl. 

“T-There was a thing with red eyes over there! He was b-big and scary!” Boris said in a shaky voice. 

The old woman gazed at the owl in silence, trying to see what Boris saw. But the man was gone and the old woman simply shook her head. 

“You must’ve seen the ghost that haunts this shop.”

“Gh-ghost!?” Now Boris was really frightened. 

“Oh-ho, but don’t be scared, my boy. He is a friendly ghost. He means no harm. I think he was just curious and wanted to see who you were. It has been a while since we’ve had any customers.”

She then holds up the chest for Boris to see. It was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand and looked like it had been handcrafted with many floral patterns carved onto its surface. She undoes the tiny latch and opens the box to reveal a small tooth nestled on a satin cushion. 

“A tooth?” Boris looked at the woman confused. 

“It is no tooth, little one, it is a seed.” 

She takes it out of the box and holds it out for Boris. He holds out both his hands, cupped upward, and she drops it into his palms.

“This is the seed of a very rare plant called ‘The Tooth Lily’. This is the very last seed of its kind. I have been keeping it safe for years, waiting for the right time to help it grow again.” She looked down at the seed with a tired look in her eyes. “But my time is almost up and I don’t have the energy to help it now. But…” She looks into Boris’ eyes with a hopeful look in her eyes. 

“It is said that when this flower reaches full bloom, it is able to bring smiles to anyone who sees it. It was once used in forgotten traditions to celebrate the gift of life. Take good care of it, help it grow, and it will share it’s smile with you and your parents.”

Boris looked at the seed with wonder before he grinned at the old woman and nodded. 

“I’ll take very good care of it!” He promised. 

“I know you will.” She grinned back at Boris, her smile missing numerous teeth. She holds the box out to him and he carefully places the seed back inside it. The old woman closes the box and places it in Boris’ hands. 

“Wait, d-do I have to pay you?” Boris asked, suddenly remembering that he didn’t bring any money.

“Don’t worry about it, Boris. Consider it a gift.” She patted the top of the box before she folded her hands behind her back and started to walk back to her counter. “Now you better hurry along. Your parents are probably expecting you home soon.”

“Oh no!” Boris’ face paled at the realization. His father will surely yell at him again if he’s late coming home. “I need to get going!” He hurriedly slipped off his backpack, carefully placed the box inside and slipped it back on before he hurried out the door. “Thank-you Mrs. Shop Lady!”

The old woman laughed and waved good-bye as Boris ran out the door. 

He ran all the way back to his house in order to make it back in time. As he ran, a thought occurred to him. 

_ ‘Wait… How did she know my name? I don’t remember telling her.’ _

He then pushed the thought aside and focused on hurrying home, eager to try growing his new treasure. 


End file.
